Chapter 22 #3
Nothing can prepare me for what happens next.
Olsen has been offered his dream job.
“That's great,” I beam, giving him a hug. “Are they giving you the salary you requested?”
“Three times as much,” he laughs.
“Oh.”
“If we move to London by the end of the month.”
◆◆◆
And he does move to London.
Without me.
“It's a once in a lifetime offer,” he repeats.
We stand at the airport departure gate.
I still can’t believe this is happening.
“If I'm not there by the twenty-ninth, the offer folds. Please come with me.”
“I need more time to sort things on this end,” I explain.
This conversation has gone in circles for weeks.
The ground sways beneath me, panic rising like a tide.
“I own a business. And a house. I can't just move to the other side of the world.”
Little does he know, because I’ve never told him the full story, but this fear runs deep.
I’ve already abandoned my life and upended everything once before.
My entire childhood lacked stability or any sort of foundation.
There’s a damn good reason I find structure and predictability calming.
And until now, he’s been my oasis of safety.
“It's romantic,” Olsen shrugs. “Be spontaneous for a change.”
“Give me time,” I plead.
I can’t leave Beth behind.
Or my mum.
Not to mention my friends.
I’ve worked so damn hard to build this empire from scratch.
Selling Astra Luna would break me in half.
But so would losing him.
So of course I’ll choose love.
Of course I will.
I just need to get my head around this.
It’s all happening so fast.
We’ve agree to be long distance until I figure out the paperwork.
I meet with my lawyer to discuss finding a buyer.
He once asked me to promise that I’d choose myself, no matter what.
But now he’s asking me to freefall without a safety net.
As we share one final kiss, something in my gut tells me to savour it.
To hold Olsen a little longer before he walks away.
◆◆◆
Home feels hollow without him.
I can’t handle being in our bed alone.
The couch reminds me of him too.
Every inch of every room mirrors some memory or conversation we’ve had.
Whenever I pull into our driveway I feel sick with dread.
I spend every possible moment at the lake.
Video calls make it worse.
Hearing his voice, seeing his face.
Knowing how far apart we are.
16,550 kilometres to be precise.
It kills me, the way Olsen just packed his bags and left, without hesitation.
Did our life mean nothing to him?
Was he unhappy here?
Does he crave something more?
Something more soon comes by the name of Josiah.
The longer we spend apart, the more inevitable it seems.
Is it really a surprise that he would catch the eye of a flirty handsome Brit?
The only surprise is that he chooses Josiah as his forever.
◆◆◆
I spiral deep.
Beth has never seen me dip this low.
It scares her.
She puts Rocco in charge and takes a leave of absence.
Porter picks her up from the airport.
She moves in with me for the next six weeks.
Food and sleep have lost all appeal.
If it wasn't for her, I’d probably starve.
Guess that makes it twice that she’s saved me from myself.
She nudges me to shower and brush my teeth.
She checks on me during the night.
Roz and Sutton help Beth pack everything into boxes.
Less than half of it is mine.
The rest of our belongings get put into storage until Olsen can ship them overseas.
I can barely look at any of it.
When I buy a new bed it feels wrong.
I cry into my pillow for more than a month, daring myself not to reach for the bottle.
Porter pours my booze down the sink every time he gets the chance.
He finds two full bottles that I hid in the recycling.
Thought I was being clever with that one.
Unshaven, sloppy, drunk.
I’m turning into my father.
I see the monster in the mirror, wearing my clothes.
Taunting me.
Laughing at me when I throw a vase against the wall.
Offering me another beer to fuel the rage. Then two more.
Inviting me to the dark side.
◆◆◆
My staff do their best to sail the ship without me.
They follow detailed instructions via Beth.
Hiring Roz really was the best business decision I’ve ever made.
I dictate emails word by word, unable to pull it together enough for a phone call.
By week seven, I’ve barely left the house.
“You're coming for a run,” Porter insists.
“Leave me alone.”
“Nope. Get off your ass. Find your sneakers.”
“Fuck off.”
“I swear, I will drag you behind me on a skateboard if I have to.”
And he probably will if I keep being stubborn.
Those runs with Porter are the turning point.
Once a day, sometimes more.
Health leads to hope.
Hope and light return in ebbs and flows.
But even once I’m back on my feet, I’m still not sure about staying in the city.
I think about moving to the lake, or perhaps Longreach.
“You really wanna throw all this away to work in a motel?” Beth scolds.
“I've worked there before.”
“When you were broke and desperate,” she retorts.
“I’m broken and desperate now,” I sigh.
She flies to the coast again and comes with me to the lake this time.
We sit by the fire until the embers begin to fizzle.
“Promise me you'll give Astra Luna at least another year,” she implores.
“One year at the most,” I grumble.
◆◆◆
A little over two years later, I step onto the balcony of my new apartment.
Stretching my quads before heading off on a run, I feel like I’ve finally turned a corner.
The idea of selling up and moving to a tiny town still holds appeal.
Maybe somewhere along the coast.
But I’ve put that on the back burner for now.
The company is flourishing thanks to word of mouth.
We’ve reached the point where I’ve had to hire extra staff.
Twelve of them.
A notification buzzes on my wrist.
High priority email from Roz.
Have Nestlé gotten back to us about the product launch?
Did they like my idea about the chocolate river?
I open my laptop to browse for an update.
Tattoo studio opening, reads the intro line.
A message from some woman named Vonnie James.
Not my kind of thing.
“Could be a goldmine for networking,” Roz suggests.
Apparently the artist is a big deal.
“Lots of important people will be there. Celebrities, musicians, athletes.”
Red carpet posers with puffy lips, I bet.
“Ugh. No thanks,” I laugh.
“Think about it,” she urges. “Astra Luna could use the clout if you're selling up.”
She has a point, damn it.
◆◆◆
Driving out to the lake, I spend a few days clearing my mind.
Reading, napping, swimming laps around the bay.
Each night I split and stack wood for the fire.
I seek comfort in the swirl of constellations above me.
Ursa Major. Orion. Cassiopeia.
I’m getting good at being alone.
I’ve had plenty of time to adjust to solo life.
But this exquisite view is wasted without somebody to share it with.
Someone who isn’t afraid of the dark.
Someone who can handle all of my quirks.
You're a handful, I sigh.
Who could possibly be brave enough?
Porter was my awakening.
Olsen was my catalyst, both loving him and losing him.
Leaning back in my chair, I whisper a plea to the heavens.
I wish for a love that feels like home.
A love that will rock my world like no other.